The Elusive Third Path
by DemonClowSorceress
Summary: Future fic. It's always been two choices for con men - the Big Score or the Big House. The third path - true love - is the biggest con of all. If given the choice, would Neal choose the Big Score? Or would he try for that elusive third path?


**The Elusive Third Path**

**By: DemonClowSorceress**

Summery: Future fic. It's always been two choices for con men - the Big Score or the Big House. The third path - true love - is the biggest con of all. Neal's already been to the Big House, so when someone from Neal's past arrives with the bait for a Big Score, will he take it? Or will he go for that elusive third path?

_**White Collar**_ doesn't belong to me at all. I'm just having some fun here.

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><p>It had been a typical case, really. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Some white-collar criminal had thought that they'd be able to steal something priceless. With some good old-fashioned FBI work (and maybe some unconventional behind-the-scenes work) the dynamic duo of Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey closed yet another case.<p>

But something was different about this particular case.

"We never did catch Cheshire," mused Peter as he and Neal sat in the conference room together. Hughes had just left after being debriefed about the case, so they were finishing up the paperwork.

Okay, Peter was doing the paperwork. Neal was being Neal.

"That calling card was very vivid," remarked Neal. He picked up the evidence baggie and examined it again. Black with silver inlay, a business card with the moniker Cheshire written in an elegant calligraphy style next to the face of a grinning cat. "Showy. Didn't care if we found it."

"This guy managed to orchastrate the entire con from outside, then get out of Dodge before the whole house of cards fell in," Peter said. "It was amazing. Almost like one of your cons."

"I didn't have a hand in it," Neal replied automatically. Force of habit.

Peter chuckled. "I know that, but I gotta say it was a well-planned con. One of the best I've ever seen. You may have another rival, Neal."

The consultant shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not." He turned the card in his hands, looking it over casually. "I wouldn't leave a calling card." Catching Peter's skeptical look he amended, "A calling card this obvious. Hey, can I go? I'm meeting Sara for dinner."

"A romantic dinner for two? I hope you play nice," Peter teased, going back to his paperwork.

Neal thought about the red-haired insurance investigator, an enemy for so long, but now a part of his life. He remembered that blackout in the Archives when he'd suddenly kissed her, and the realization he'd had weeks ago that he, in fact, was in love with her. That he couldn't live without her. A feeling he only thought he'd have with Kate.

If only he hadn't lost the -

"Neal? You all right?"

Neal blinked; he'd zoned out, which made Peter worry a bit. The con man shook his head. "Yeah, sorry, just I, uh, got distracted."

Peter shrugged. "Okay, fine, get out of here. See you in the morning."

"See ya," Neal said.

Once outside the building, he checked his watch. 5:45. He still had plenty of time before his dinner with Sara.

He had someone to meet.

* * *

><p>"I knew you'd get my calling card's note."<p>

Neal leaned against the railing of his balcony, watching the slight figure crouched by the sculpture. "I figured the number on the back served another purpose than just a telephone number," he admitted. "Ten numbers - June's address and a time you'd be here."

"Sent from Cheshire."

"Really? That's what you went with?" Neal replied with a grin. "Cheshire? Kind of an obvious clue, isn't it? One of a kind."

"So's that suit," replied his guest, stepping out of the shadows. "You're looking good, Neal. You got a nice pad here. FBI perks?"

He shook his head. "The landlady can spot an honest con man. That, and she's a good judge of character." His smile softened fondly. "You're looking good too, Nicki."

The Cheshire cat smile was the same, even if everything else had changed. Last he'd seen Nicole, she'd been a seventeen-year-old waif who helped him run quick two-man cons. She'd been his best partner in crime. Then he left and she disappeared. Until now.

"So you're a thief," he remarked, looking over her jeans and cashmere sweater, all skin-tight, all black. "Followed in the family trade."

"Thief, grifter, forger - whatever comes my way," Nicki replied. She kissed his cheek and pulled out her hair, letting dark strands drop in a curtain of silk.

"The years have certainly been kind to you," Neal observed. "Twenty-five now, huh?"

"Last October." She stood easily; not threatened, not rushed. "How's Mozzie?"

"He's Mozzie."

She nodded. "I heard he got shot a while back. Helping you?" Neal looked away. "I'm sorry. But hey, he's looking better from what I saw."

"You were tailing us," he responded. Not that he was surprised.

Nicki grinned. "I always watch the players in a game. You learn a lot by just watching." The grin grew teasing. "Like that insurance lady. Sara Ellis. Didn't you swipe a Raphael that she had insured?"

"Allegedly," Neal said with an easy smile. "She can't prove it."

The younger woman sat on the patio chair and poured herself a glass of wine. Unwilling to be boorish, Neal joined her. They silently toasted each other, took a sip, and faced each other with the serious faces of long-time friends with much to talk about.

"You're out of the game," Nicki said. It wasn't a question.

Neal nodded. "I haven't pulled a con outside the law for over two years."

She took another drink. "Surprised a lot of people. Neal Caffrey, con man turned lawman."

"Who've you been talking to?"

"People of mutual acquaintence."

"That include Keller?"

Nicki's face took on a look of revulsion. "Keller's a cold-hearted killer. I don't associate with scum like him." She shook her head as if ridding her mind of the thought. "No, I heard from people who know him. He's alive, in case you're wondering, and living the good life."

"Where?"

"When I know, you'll know." She ran a finger around the rim of her glass, elicting a soft sound. "Crystal glasses?"

"June has exquisite taste. Her husband Byron was a class act."

"One of the family."

"Exactly."

"He got out?"

Neal nodded. "He did. Clean." He thought about the plate in the hidden table drawer and shrugged. "As clean as anyone expects to get out."

"Point being, you're out? Clean?"

Neal looked over the skyline of Manhatten, taking time to phrase his answer. "Why do you want to know?"

Nicki shrugged. "There _may _be something going down in a month, and there _may _be need for another guy."

He looked back at her. She met his gaze. Blue eyes and gray eyes. The maybe game had begun.

"What _might _be the payout?"

"_Maybe _three-quarters of a million?"

Neal whistled. "This crew _may _be going after something too hot to handle."

"That crew _may _have someone good. The best."

"You?"

"You."

Neal took another sip of wine. Licking his lips, he set the glass down again. "I have to admit, it sounds interesting."

"Interesting enough to want in?"

He looked at her. "How long have you known me?"

"Ten years, give or take," Nicki replied. "Wait, we were going by professionally, right?"

"When did I first meet you?"

"When I was seven years old," said Nicki. "It was my first con. I'd run away from home and couldn't go back; my dad would've killed me. When I got picked up, I managed to convince the cops that your house was my house. You answered the door, saw me, and convinced your mom to let me stay. I never left until after you did for New York City."

Neal nodded. "Yeah. You've been conning since then, right?"

"So have you," she fired back.

"And I'm tired of it," Neal said. "I've lost too much, Nicki. I lost Kate. I almost lost Mozzie. I came damn close to losing Peter a couple times too."

"Your Fed," Nicki said. "Respectable guy. I can see why you trust him so much."

He waved it off. "Point is, conning was starting to cost me. It never did before." He looked at Nicki with his real face, not his charm smile. "I'm out now, Nicki. I can't risk what I have now."

She leaned forward, her bright eyes reflecting the lights of the city. "The final score, Neal," she whispered tantalizingly. "That last big score that everyone dreams of."

At the beginning of his partnership with Peter, Neal would've jumped at the opportunity. He would've found a way out of his anklet and run off with Nicki into the night towards that prize, the prize that all con men dream of - the Big Score. It was the only other choice besides the Big House, and he'd already been there.

But then he'd met June, whose husband Byron had found that elusive third path. He'd worked with Peter, and Jones, and Diana. He'd loved and lost Kate. He'd almost lost too many other friends to count, but helped so many people get back what had been taken from them.

And now he had Sara. A woman who knew what he was, what he'd done (proven or otherwise) and still cared for him. Maybe even loved him.

So he shook his head. "Sorry kid. You'll have to find someone else."

Nicki smiled and nodded, respecting his choice. "Old con men never die," she remarked.

"Their smiles only fade away," Neal finished. "Hey, I'm not that old."

"Being a Fed's partner has really mellowed you out." She looked at him closer. "Or maybe it's not just the Fed. Although I'm sure he's a major driving force behind this transformation."

Neal recalled the many faces of Peter Burke - angry, intent, calculating, sarcastic, warm, and proud. The closest thing Neal had to a friend aside from Mozzie. An honest friend. He recalled the fights, the plans, the close shaves, and the bonding times they had over beer and wine at the Burke house. He thought of Elizabeth who, like June, could see him for who he truly was and not just as a criminal.

"Peter is quite a character," he admitted. "Makes you think you can choose between being a con and a man."

"Quite a feat," Nicki agreed. In silence they shared more wine. She caught him trying to check the time. "Am I keeping you from somebody?"

He gave a sheepish smile. "Actually, yeah. I'm supposed to meet Sara for dinner in about thirty minutes."

"Oh, my apologies." She rose, and so did Neal. "I didn't know you were meeting the lovely lady tonight. I won't keep you." She held out a small velvet box towards him. "I think you lost something during the big takedown today, am I right?"

Neal reached out and snatched the box from her. His eyes were wide. "It fell down a grate into the sewer." Then he noticed something. "This isn't the one I lost."

"It's not the exact same one," Nicki admitted, "but something damn close, and a whole lot more sentimental." She gave him a smile. "Took a while to find, but hey, you're worth it. I hope she is too."

"She is," Neal said, opening the box to see the ring. It was familiar - so familiar that he looked up at Nicki in shock. "You found Mom's ring?"

She shrugged. "One of my first honest purchases. Figured I should keep it out of the pawnshop."

"And you're giving it to me?" Neal asked, still shell-shocked at what he was holding in his hands.

Nicki raised an eyebrow. "We 'take', Neal, we don't 'give'."

"What do you want?" Already Neal was mentally figuring out what he had left, where it was hidden, and how fast Peter would show up if he should, say, convince Nicki to pick his anklet.

She crossed her arms. "I want you to introduce me to your friends and your girlfriend, of course." She grinned at his expression. "That's my price, Neal. I'm taking your past in exchange for your future," she said, gesturing to the ring. "What do you say?"

His only response was to gather her up in a hug to tight that they both laughed breathlessly. She patted his back to make him let go, and they smiled at each other.

"Thanks, kid," he whispered. "I owe you one."

She pulled back. "Call it evensies for bailing me out that first time."

"I thought I cleared that debt with the Monet."

"The Monet cleared you for that thing with the Dominicans."

"How was I supposed to know Alex was working them too?"

"Whatever." She shook her head. "You saved me when I was a kid, Neal. The least I can do is the same, in my own special way." Stepping back to the balcony, Nicki jumped on the rail to crouch like a lithe, beautiful gargoyle. "You'll see me again soon, Neal. Keep an eye out. Love ya."

"Love ya." Neal held the ring box tightly in his hand. "Gimme a smile, Cheshire Cat," he said, the nickname holding real affection for the closest thing he had to family.

The wide grin was the last thing he saw before she jumped into the night.

* * *

><p>When Peter Burke entered his office the next day, a card was on his desk. Black with silver inlay, Cheshire in calligraphy and a smiling cat beside it. Curious, he flipped it over. Written on the back in silver Sharpie was a phone number and the words "Wanna talk? One on one. About Neal."<p>

Without hesitation Peter dialed the number. He didn't bother notifying anyone; he knew it would go to a burn phone, so a trap-and-trace was a waste of time. Besides, this person knew Neal, so odds were this conversation would just be a cordial greeting.

Cheshire answered on the second ring. "I didn't think you'd actually call, Agent Burke."

Peter managed to hide his surprise that Cheshire was a woman. "You want to talk about Neal. Let's talk."

"All right then. Neal is a mutual friend of ours, and I, for one, am happy that he's happy. I understand that you're the person to thank for that." She sounded very pleased.

"How do you know Neal?" asked Peter, curious.

She chuckled softly. "He and I go way back. You might say I was his first con, and he was mine."

"So why talk to me?"

"Because I already talked to Neal, and he seems content being an honest con man." The phone shifted; he imagined the woman leaning forward. "You managed to change him, Peter Burke. I commend you. Probably wasn't easy."

"It wasn't." For some reason, Cheshire reminded him a lot of Neal; charming, witty, and clever enough to give information while seeming to tell nothing at all.

"I just wanted to call and tell you - you have nothing to worry about."

Peter smiled. "I never worry about Neal anymore."

"I mean about him turning back to crime. I approached him last night and tried to tempt him."

The FBI agent raised an eyebrow. "Bold move. I'm assuming he turned you down."

"Cold as the Arctic Circle." But she didn't sound annoyed. "He told me he was out. Turns out he was right."

"Did you orchastrate that heist on the museum?" Peter asked. "We found your card."

"No, my hands are clean of it. I left my card for Neal. If I did anything, I helped you guys nail that crew to the wall." She sighed. "If you don't believe me, look in your bullpen."

He looked and saw a woman in a black custom pantsuit standing by the glass double doors, smiling wide as her namesake as she waved at him. He hung up as she did, and she walked up to meet him. Dark hair hung to her shoulders, and gray eyes danced with amusement. "Agent Peter Burke," she said as she offered her hand. "I'm - "

"I know who you are," Peter said with his own grin, shaking her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Does Neal know you're showing up today?"

They both looked to the entrance as Neal entered. His mouth dropped open in shock when he saw his partner talking to Cheshire. The young woman couldn't help but smirk at Peter. "I had to pull one last fast one on him. For old times' sake."

Peter smiled back when Neal came up the stairs. "Neal Caffrey," he said, gesturing to their guest, "I'm sure you know Cheshire. She's another criminal consultant for the FBI, and we had her on loan from the D.C. office. Her expertise in white-collar crimes is almost as extensive as yours."

"Neal," Nicki said with her Cheshire cat grin.

"Nicki," Neal responded, trying not to laugh out loud.

Peter raised an eyebrow at them. "May I ask how you two know each other?"

The two criminal consultants looked at each other for a long moment, then looked back at Peter with identical secret smiles. He had an idea that whatever they told him wouldn't be the whole truth. Jones and Diana, sensing something was about to happen, sidled up beside their boss to meet this newcomer.

"We grew up together," Neal said. He gave a smile. "Peter, Jones, Diana, this is Nicole Caffrey. She's my little sister."

It was worth it to see Peter's eyebrows shoot straight up in shock. "You don't have any siblings," he sputtered. "You're an only child."

"His mom took me in," Nicki said with a grin. "When I was seven. He talked her into it."

Diana and Jones were sporting huge smiles as Peter tried to reconcile that he'd been blindsided by his friend. Someone called the agents away, leaving Neal and Nicki alone. She looked at Neal. "I'm not in town long. D.C. wants me back to bring down a jewelry ring, and my partner's a stick in the mud without me."

"Criminal consultant, huh?" His grin was almost as wide. "Something you forgot to mention last night," he remarked.

"Wanted to surprise you," Nicki said.

"So last night was, what? Trying to trick me?"

"Just letting our past selves say goodbye." She smiled again, but knowingly. "She said yes, didn't she?"

Neal's smile was true gratitude. "Thank you, Nicki."

"Just make sure I'm invited to the wedding, knucklehead."

* * *

><p><strong>This...did not turn out how I expected. But I like it, don't you?<strong>

**Yes, he asked Sara to marry him.**

**Reviews would be lovely, please!**


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